Bum Knees
by mandaree1
Summary: Raph has bad knees. He knew he had bad knees. His brothers and Sensei, however, did not. That is, until now.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles**

**Summary: Raph has bad knees. He knew he had bad knees. His brothers and Sensei, however, did not. That is, until now. Pre-series.**

**Warnings: possible O.O.C?**

**...**

Raph had a secret. Big whoop, right? Ninja's were _supposed_ to have secrets.

And it wasn't really a secret. He just didn't talk about. _Big_ difference.

It'd started as an after-training ache. Whenever he put to much force on them, his knees would start aching. He grit his teeth and carried on anyhow. No pain, no gain, right? But soon, they started hurting more and more until it was a 24/7 thing instead of a once in a while thing.

And then, one day, in the heat of training, Leo managed to swipe his knees with his katana's. The pain _exploded_ and he'd fallen to the ground with a seriously uncool yell and whimpered like a puppy when Donnie and Mikey helped him up. It wasn't a bad scratch, not really, but the pain in his knees intensified because of it and he soon found them giving out during training practice.

So he'd shooed his family away, locking himself in his room, waited for the scratched to heal and thinking it over. (Because, yes, he actually did think. Chew on that, Leo.)

He wasn't an idiot, he knew how his body worked. So he wondered, what made his knees hurt so much? Why didn't his brothers knees hurt all the time? What was different?

It hit him: his weight.

He was heavier than his brothers his shell was stockier and his muscles harder. He outweighed them all easily, and he used that weight to his advantage, _daily_. Throwing himself at enemies, mowing down training dummies, etc.

And he trained harder than his brothers. Unlike his family, who had other hobbies and such, training was his_ life_. Fighting was breathing, as far as he was concerned, he had to do it. Many a night had been spent wailing away at a bag while his brothers slept, multiple mornings practicing weapons over joining in a comfortable family breakfast.

And you put all that weight and all that training on two joints, you destroyed the joints. They rusted and they grinded until they eventually fell apart.

He tested his theory. Using an old robot leg (don't ask, he had his ways) he propped enough weight onto it that it equaled his own, then moved it around. It took awhile, but eventually the leg broke. Knees plus weight plus lots of training plus injury equaled bum knees.

He'd puffed his chest out in pride. He'd managed to figure out something science-y all on his own. Ha! Take that Donnie! He wasn't an idiot after all, _and_ he had proof!

A few more days later, he finally emerged from his self-imposed seclusion with a smile plastered on his face and _lots_ of knee wraps. He was just trying to be more careful, he told them, he didn't want the enemy to see his knees were a weak point and strike.

They'd snorted and turned back to they were doing. He'd take the wraps off eventually, they figured, once his knees healed and he was back to full capacity.

But he never did. And, eventually, the sight of him with the extra wraps and knee pads all the time become normal. Sensei questioned him from time to time, but mostly left it be. He'd tell when he was ready, and not a second sooner.

And the wraps worked _wonders_. Sure, his knees hurt just as bad (actually, worse) as they did pre-injury, but now he could increase his stamina and not have them fall out beneath him during training.

But they still gave out. They gave out a lot, actually, but that was easy enough to disguise with a heavy flop (fall) onto the sofa after a long day of training or a refusal to get up off the floor during training because he was exhausted (unable to stand) and needed a five minute break.

If things were too bad, he'd usually sneak out of the lair after every had gone to sleep. It wasn't like he was going to the surface, so Sensei and the others couldn't complain about his 'moonlight adventures' in the sewer.

Finding a pool of cool water was easy enough to do. (They _did_ live in a sewer, after all), and the cold really helped relax the muscles. He'd slowly learned to massage the pain away as well, through trial and error (extremely _painful_ trial and error) and the result was just what he needed: his knees slowly relaxing to the point to where he could sleep properly. No fuss, no muss, he had it handled.

But now (thanks to a couple of secret camera's Donnie'd recently installed (where the shell had Donnie gotten camera parts!?) and a 'surprise' doctors checkup after a long day of practice) he was being subjected to a pissed off Donnie, whom was tapping his foot and attempting to glare at the turtle sitting on his work bench as he stuttered out excuses and complaints.

Donnie raised an eye ridge. Raph considered punching him, but decided against it. He couldn't chase after him if he decided to run off, not with his wraps neatly folded beside him and knees bared for the world to see. "So... let me get this straight." He drawled out, crossing his arms. "You're knees hurt. _All_ the time."

"Right."

"And you know _why_ they hurt?"

"Right."

He massaged the bridge of his nose. "And you didn't tell me!?"

"Right."

"Raph... of all the stupid things you've done over the years, and believe me, theres _a lot_, this has got to be the stupidest."

He clenched his fists, bit his tongue. Yelling would draw attention, attention he could really do without right now.

"Did it _ever_ occur to you that I _might_ have been able to help you!?"

"It's not gonna go away." It wasn't some scratch Donnie could sew up or a wound a dab of alcohol could get rid of. It was something _inside_ of him, something that wouldn't go away with anything Donnie could do with his fancy science stuff.

"Not _now_." Donnie grunted, waving a hand at the knees in question. "But if you'd brought it to my attention when it _first_ started, I _might_ have been able to help."

He shrugged. So what? It was a little late now. He was used to the pain in his joints that the idea of living without it was alien.

Donnie sighed. "You're obviously not getting it." He turned around and headed towards the door. "SENSEI!" He called, starting into the hall. "SENSEI, I need to talk to you!"

"Donnie, wait!" He struggled to his feet, following after his retreating brother "Sensei doesn't need to- ah!"

Of _course_ his knees would give out now,_ just_ when he needed them to work. He blamed Donnie for this!

Leo and Mikey, whom had both been watching from the sofa, were by his side in a millisecond. "Dude, are you alright?"

"I'm fine." He gritted his teeth, clutching the wall. He would not fall over, not with his brothers nearby.

"No he's not." Donnie commented, stopping a second. He hopped on his feet, ready to take off. "Mikey, Leo, help him to my table. I'm going to get sensei."

They both grabbed his arms, hauling him to his seat. "Seriously Raph, are you okay?" Leo pressed, helping him sit down.

"'m fine." He sat down, frantically starting to rewrap his knees "I'm just gonna go for a walk..."

"_Raphael_." Sensei sat in the doorway, arms crossed, tail swishing behind him. Donnie stood by his side, looking strangely triumphant at getting his brother in trouble.

He gulped.

See!? This is why ninja's keep secrets! Survival of the fittest, right?

Sensei was going to _kill_ him...

**Review! Don't like don't read! No flames!**


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